Inappropriately Beautiful
by LitLove
Summary: And to think of it, it all started with an innocent gesture of affection. - Post-movie. One-shot.


**A/N: **Woo-hoo! *happy dance* First ever FF of something else than Gilmore Girls. I can't believe it. *happy dance* As many of you know, this movie gets you really addicted, Rapunzel and Flynn/Eugene are so cute and funny and you simply have to like them. So here's my humble attempt of a one-shot, short and not very entertaining and totally no story behind it, but whatev. Please remember my first language is german, but I try really hard. And for all the mistakes and grammar-slips and punctuation-mistakes I have my wonderful beta Kassandra, and I couldn't do it without her. She's pretty awesome. :)

Last thing to mention: I would adore to get some reviews, because they make me giddy and happy and dancing around all day. So, hope you like it, hope to hear from you, hope to made you - at least for a short time - smile. :)

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Disney's the genius.

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><p><strong>INAPPROPRIATELY BEAUTIFUL<strong>

He has her pressed against the wall of a niche where a statue of a half-naked woman finds its place. It's on the scarcely lit corridor between the kitchen and the stairs up to the entrance hall, a place where people hardly ever pass. Her arms are fastened around his neck, one hand holding on to his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. One of her legs is halfway wrapped around his waist, her knee pressing to his side. The skirt of her dress already slipped up way too high, exposing her knee and most of her thigh. He can't hold back his hand when it lays itself on the exposed flesh, his thumb caressing her hipbone, making her moan in delight every time he flickers over it.

"Don't … stop …"

Her breath comes in small gasps and she moans and murmurs and sighs.

He's the future Prince Consort and this is surely nowhere in the tons of manner books they have to study every day, but he just can't stop. Her moans tingle in his ears, the touch of her hands burn on his skin and her body pressing to his is nearly more than he can take.

Nonetheless a small voice tells him, that he needs to stop – _right now!_ – because this surely isn't the safest place to ravish his lovely princess.

"Rapunz … Rapun … Rapunzel."

When saying her name is already this hard, how could he tell her the next thing?

"Don't, Eugene," she pleads quietly, another moan escaping her when one of his fingers lightly touches her collarbone, "don't say that we need to stop. Not _again_."

Her statement takes the wind out of him and in that moment she's more beautiful than ever before. He presses his lips down on hers, their tongues lavishly tangled together, their bodies pressed even more into one another, if at all possible. She moans into his mouth, her hands slipping under his vest, gliding over his upper body still covered with his shirt, and lower, lower, lower … til they rest on his buttocks. He likes it when her hands discover his body.

The same as she likes it when Eugene touches the _inappropriate_ parts of her body. Like right now, when his right hand slips from her neck, down over her collarbone (and yet another moan escapes her lips into his mouth) and comes to caress her breast. And she knows that no one except her beloved Eugene will ever be allowed to touch her like this. _Ever again_.

And to think of it, it all started with an innocent gesture of affection.

After they walk down the stairs and before turning the corner to the servant entrance to the kitchen and the stairs leading back upstairs to the education wing, Eugene makes her pause in her step and Rapunzel smiles knowingly up at him, her eyes already closed. She guesses, that in probably no more than three seconds, his mouth will be upon hers, but the dazzling feeling of his lips never comes. Surprised she opens her eyes to see him holding a small pot up to her face.

"Ahm …" She's not sure how to react because she also doesn't know what he's holding.

"Rose madder," is all he's saying, his famous half-grin on his lips.

"Ahm …" She still doesn't know what he's talking about.

"Last week you talked about it. So: Rose madder."

"Last week?"

"You said that sometimes it's very depressing, because although you have purple, and purple violet, and pink, and rose, and magenta, and _whatever_ shades of pink there are, you still need one other color for the cherry blossoms in your new painting for it to turn out perfect. So here you go: Rose madder."

She's stunned and speechless and very touched about the gesture, and can't believe he really thought about something she told him last week out of sheer frustration, not believing in the first place that he even listened to her _at all_. After all he was playing chess with Pascal at this time (and got a hammering).

"Eugene …"

"Ah, don't even start, Blondie. I walked by a store, I saw the paint and I thought of you, so no big deal." He smirks again and she finally takes the small pot from his hand, beaming like the sun.

"Even if you think it's no big deal, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much, Eugene."

And that's how they end up pressed together with her back against the wall.

The sound of approaching footsteps finally makes them detangle, most unwillingly. They straighten out the other ones clothes and hair, and clear their throats a few times. It wouldn't be the first time that he squeaks at someone after having a similar encounter with the princess, but most of the time it happens when they have to jump apart in the matter of seconds. Her face shows a light blush, on his is a wide grin, and both have sparkling eyes and a look, speaking of pure adoration, for each other.

He picks up the book she dropped earlier in the heat of the moment and holds it out to her. She smiles and takes it, and afterwards slips her arm through his as they continue their way to their separate lessons. When they pass the person which made them detangle, they seem like the cute, innocent couple they surely aren't but everybody believes them to be.

(Funny thing that nobody realized yet that they often leave the lunch table fifteen minutes earlier than they have to, and always take the way through the entrance hall and down the stairs to the kitchen.)

**oOo**

"Mr. Fitzherbert! Could you please be so kind and stop daydreaming! We have a lot of work!"

Manners Tutor – or Hubsy, as he calls him – doesn't look like a man who has ever experienced something like he just did a while ago down the kitchen corridor. The taste of Rapunzels lips is still on his, and some parts of his body still need to calm down a little bit.

"Sorry, Hubsy. I'm totally ears now. I mean, who couldn't with the fascinating topic of _'How to properly dress for hunting_'. Especially because I'm well known for going on a good hunt every other day."

"As you surely remember, Mr. Fitzherbert, we more than once discussed that sarcasm is no proper behavior for a Prince Consort. Not proper at all!" Hubsy's eyebrows are drawn together and – can it be? – it seems like he glares at him.

"Now, now, Hubs-master! Didn't we learn that glaring is bad behavior? If I remember correctly you told me in the very first of our delightful lessons that _'a true gentleman has to never show his feelings on the surface_'."

This is way too much fun. He can't wait to tell Rapunzel later … oh … now he remembers again … the kitchen corridor … the wall … and Rapunzel, and more Rapunzel, and _everything_ Rapunzel. Man, he's a lost cause. But she's so beautiful and he could tell her all day, every day. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.

He goes back to daydreaming and Hubsy has to draw him out again. This happens quite a lot during the afternoon.

**oOo**

Today's topic is Botany and she's bored silly. For 18 years she had all of three books and one of them about … drums please … exactly: Botany. She read it at least twice a day so she really already knows what her tutor is talking about.

She's wondering what Eugene's doing right now and a smile creeps across her face and her gaze wanders out of the window.

"Princess?"

"Hmmm?" Rapunzel replies absent-minded, her eyes remain on something nobody can see.

"Princess!" Her tutor is not amused, quite the opposite, and Rapunzel slips out of her daydream, "You are zoning out on me. Attention, please!"

"Of course, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am." And she's back to the family of _Cypripedioideae_, or also known as Lady Slipper Orchids, and reassures herself that later on she still has enough time to think about her beloved ex-thief.

**oOo**

A few weeks later she draws a picture of a Lady Slipper Orchid and for the petals she uses rose madder. She blushes when she thinks about what she did that afternoon, although being still out of wedlock, and she gets giddy and excited, and decides that this picture should, forever and always, be known as _'Inappropriately_ _Beautiful'_.

**FIN**


End file.
